Do you ever have that feeling like you are having a boxing match with yourself, just you and you in the ring, and the thing just keeps going on and on, because of course you have no idea about boxing and what the rules are. There must be a point where the little guy in the corner says ENOUGH! I could use him. It is Tuesday morning here, and the fruit and vegetable guy from Naples is driving down the street with his mouth pressed up against a microphone saying, “melone, limone, limone, melone, POMModoro”, sounding a lot like a late night referee for worn out boxers like myself. I am not interested in cooking. I am only interested in being miserable, so I going to fry up some bread crumbs again with olive oil and garlic, toss them with loads of tiny arugula leaves, thick shavings of parmigiano reggiano, marinated cannellini (just a drizzle of olive oil, lemon and garlic) and call it dinner. If you don’t have any cannelinni, fry an egg and set that on top of the salad instead.
I will have strawberries and whipped cream for dessert, which always helps. Of course breathing would help as well. I tend to forget about breathing at critical moments. I think by now I must have set records for getting through a good part of the day on a single breath. I should forget boxing and take up swimming under water.